


My Curse

by atryhardauthor



Category: Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: 95 percent of those characters are mentioned like once, M/M, also warning for blood, and swearing but most of it is from Tommy, and towards the end, but i love them all so there ya go, much sadness, so watch out for those, there's also a lot of angst, there's quite a bit in the beginning nightmare, warning for death toward the end
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-23
Updated: 2021-02-23
Packaged: 2021-03-14 05:06:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29662191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/atryhardauthor/pseuds/atryhardauthor
Summary: Dream is a bigger liar than anyone ever thought. He said the only thing he cared about was the disks, but that simply wasn’t true.And there was only one way for everyone to get their revenge on the green man- take away the one thing he ever TRULY cared about.
Relationships: Clay | Dream & George, Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 9
Kudos: 86





	My Curse

**Author's Note:**

> Dedicated to Tumblr user unfortunatelyevidentidiot because they gave me the idea for this (and that summary! ^^^) and i said if nothing else, I'd write it for them.  
> Also, this contains a PINCH of my Priest-Of-DreamXD! Dream AU-Headcannon thing, so there's that. Watch out for the angst too!

_Red. So, so much red. Clouding his vision, coating his hands, soaking his pants as he desperately tries to staunch the wound that is staining George’s blue shirt a dark, ugly purple._

_A pale hand gripping weakly at his green tunic, a weak gasp pleading to be saved. But the red runs faster, flooding everything, slowly filling the field he’s kneeling in._

_It rises too fast. Soon the red is trickling over his knees. It laps at George’s skin, rising to drown the dying man lying in Dream’s arms._

_George’s glassy, brown eyes meet his, and just before the red envelopes George’s face, he gives out a last sigh. Sorrowful chocolate eyes lock onto electric green ones and fill with betrayal and disappointment._

_The red swallows him whole and George’s pale hand releases Dream’s shirt from its grip, splashing down into the blood river. Droplets of thick red fly up to meet Dream’s face. But as it collides with his skin, it begins to burn._

_The blood turns to lava and Dream feels George’s weight disappear from his arms beneath it. A mist forms overhead and suddenly, George is back, hovering just inches above the burning gold._

_Dream begs for help, screams for it, as the lava begins to melt him. But George just watches. Watches him burn. Watches him melt. The boiling lake rises to Dream’s face, scalding and blistering his skin._

_The last thing Dream sees before the searing pain engulfs him, is George’s eyes, filled with that same look of betrayal. As everything darkens and the pain becomes unbearable, a voice echoes through his mind, growing louder and louder, until it’s the only thing he can hear._

_**"I trusted you. And you let me down."** _

Dream wakes up in a cold sweat, breathing hard. His head whips to the other side of the room, where George’s bed is pressed against the wall. He’s not there.

Dream can feel the panic in his chest beginning to rise.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, the rational part of him says George probably just woke up and went outside for some air and a little stargazing as he normally does when he can’t sleep. But the nightmare is still fresh in Dream’s mind, fueling the fire of fear.

His blankets are cast aside and he jumps up, not bothering to do anything but grab his axe as he dashes for the door. Thank God Sapnap, whose bed lies against the wall opposite to George’s, is a heavy sleeper.

The door slams open and Dream bursts outside. He shivers as the cold air meets his hot skin, but he pays little attention to it.

The moon is bright in the sky, lighting up the area around the community house.

But George is nowhere.

He runs out a little further on the wooden path suspended above the water. Overwhelmed tears sting his eyes as his mind tries to calm his racing heart. The axe falls from his hand, dropping with a heavy thud, and he tears his hands through his green-streaked hair.

“GEORGE!!!”

The cry rips from his throat as he falls to one knee, irrational fear flooding every part of his body. He stays there, on one knee, in the cold, arms wrapped around himself. Like he can somehow comfort himself. His fingers dig into his skin and he knows there will be crescent marks later from his nails.

“George…”

The utterance of the name seems to work some sort of magic, because an ender-pearl flies over him. A moment later, George appears at the end of the bridge in a puff of purple mist. He whips around, eyes locking onto Dream’s half-collapsed figure.

George is at Dream’s side in no time.

“Dream, hey, hey, what happened?” He asks worriedly, palm fitting against Dream’s still-warm cheek. The embers are still hot, the panic not yet sated.

Dream says nothing, simply wrapping his arms around George’s small figure. George lets himself be pulled flush against Dream’s chest.

Heavy breathing is the only sound passed between them for a moment.

“It was the nightmares again, wasn’t it?” George murmurs, recognizing how panicked Dream feels. “Was it the lava-blood one?”

Dream just nuzzles his forehead closer against George’s neck. But it’s answer enough.

“Shit, I’m sorry Dream. I knew I should’ve stayed in tonight. I could’ve opened a window or something, but I was too warm and so I figured it wouldn’t hurt to go outside for-”

“Kiss me…” Dream whispers, breathless from panic, throat parched and crackly from the fiery hysteria from minutes before. George stops mid-sentence and there’s only a breathless moment, while Dream pulls his head from it’s nest against George’s skin, until George’s soft, cool lips envelope Dream’s.

It’s a soft kiss, sweet and comforting.

George kisses away the trembling of Dream’s lips, kisses the remnants of the nightmare away, douses the flames that burn under Dream’s skin. George’s lips leave Dream’s, leaving a trail of soft kisses down Dream’s jaw.

Emerald eyes flutter shut at the touch, the racing mind finally quieting now the George is here. Dream’s hands are no longer shaking and tightened into George’s shirt. They gently trace circles over George’s sides. Make patterns against his arms.

Finally, George pulls away. Dream can’t help but lean forward once more, pressing a short, loving kiss against George’s lips. They both smile and laugh softly.

Dream hopes the night stretches on. Hopes they can stay like this forever.

But alas, some moments have to come to an end.

George slowly stands up, his hand laced with Dream’s, and he pulls Dream back towards the community house. Dream doesn’t feel like sleeping, afraid the lava will return and afraid of seeing that look of utter pain on George’s face again.

But as Dream slips back into bed, George crawls in after him. He curls up against Dream’s chest, allowing himself to be held close.

“Go to sleep, Dream. I’ll be here if you wake up again.”

~~

Dream shifts his wrist uncomfortably, the cold steel of the shackle pressing into his skin in all the wrong ways. Sam had come in a few hours earlier, chaining Dream to the back wall of his cell.

Weird.

He always let Dream roam free. But restricting him? A sinking feeling makes Dream’s heart heavy, his stomach sick.

The chain hanging from the cuff allows him to move just past the clock on his wall, but never farther. Now here he is, sitting in his cell with a sore wrist, as the lava wall that usually cuts him off from the rest of the world thins to a trickle.

Dream scowls at Tommy as the boy enters his cell. But before he can say anything, his gaze falls to the group behind him. Never in all his months here has he seen so many people crammed into the small space. He’s surprised they all managed to fit onto the platform.

He raises an eyebrow.

“Special occasion?” He asks. No one laughs. But Tommy approaches him, fingers almost white from being clenched too tightly around the handle of a sword. That strikes him as odd.

Sam never allows weapons in the prison. The hair on the back of Dream’s neck begins to stand up. Something’s not right.

But as normal, he puts on his air of confidence, nonchalance. He slowly rises to his feet, the cold obsidian wall pressing into his shoulder as he leans heavily against it.

“You bastard,” Tommy hisses, stalking closer to the prisoner. Poison drips from each word.

Before Dream can reply, Tommy’s knuckles collide with Dream’s jaw. His head snaps back, bashing into the wall. Something warm begins to run down the back of Dream’s neck and for a moment, Dream remembers the red.

That horrible color, swallowing everything, painting it in blood. He’s afraid the wound will open further and drown him, like it normally does. But he forces himself to stay calm.

_This is real, this is real, this is real._

It’s been his mantra lately, with no one to help with his nightmares.

“Did you come here to fight me again, Tommy? Is that all?” Dream asks, spitting blood onto the ground. He’s bitten his tongue a little too hard from the punch.

Tommy looks ready to run him through. But he doesn’t.

“No,” Tommy replies, sounding almost disappointed. He glances over his shoulder, at the group behind him. Tubbo, Puffy, Jack, and Quackity are in the front, gazes full of hate. It’s like fire, blazing bright in their eyes. Dream thinks it may burn him alive if he continues to look.

“Dream, you took everything from me,” Tommy murmurs, raising his sword to Dream’s neck. The tip touches his skin and he winces.

Tommy must’ve sharpened it exceedingly well.

“You exiled me, took my discs, manipulated me AND my friends. You blew up my L’Manberg. WILBUR’S L’Manberg,” Tommy continues. The others nod in agreement. “You took away everything I loved and I’ve had to work my ass off to get it back.”

Dream can see where this is going. He laughs, moving away from the blade. Tommy lowers the sword, eyes never leaving those of his enemy.

“And what are you going to do about it?” Dream sneers, taking a step towards Tommy. Tommy instinctively backs up and Dream takes this chance.

He lunges towards Tommy, who throws himself away with a shout and scrambles away. But Dream is faster and his hand curls into the front of Tommy’s shirt, yanking him closer.

Out of the corner of his eye, Dream sees Tubbo stop Puffy and Quackity as they move to help Tommy.

Dream pulls the teen closer. A dark chuckle escapes his lips and he growls, “You gonna take away something I love in return? I’ve told you once Tommy, I have no attachments. The only thing I ever cared about was the discs, and even then, I couldn’t give less of a shit about them. I just needed the leverage. So go ahead, try to phase me. But there is nothing, NOTHING, I care about. You have nothing on me.”

The taste of that lie always makes him sick.

Chestnut eyes, filled with betrayal fill his mind once more almost as if disappointed that he is telling it again.

He drops Tommy, backing away for some air. He always hated saying that. It felt like he was drowning, suffocating in the molten metal that so often plagued his dreams. It had begun to infect his conscious life as well.

“That’s a lie, Dream, and you know it.”

Dream’s head snaps up at the familiar voice and he locks eyes with Sapnap. If it were any other time, he would be relieved to see his friend alive and doing well.

But Dream’s heart drops as Sapnap gives a sharp tug and George stumbles out of the crowd. Behind his two friends, Niki, Callahan, Eret, and Ponk stand unmoving, their eyes burning bright with a victory that has not yet been won.

Sapnap pushes George forward and the brunette stumbles from the force, collapsing to his knees just feet away from Dream.

Sapnap’s eyes look pained. He gives Dream a small shake of his head and steps back. His eyes are cast to the floor.

They don’t come back to Dream’s.

Dream’s stomach tightens. He doesn’t like where this is going.

“...George?” He questions. Everything in him is pulling towards George, but the chain around his wrist keeps him cemented in place. George’s eyes are wide. Fear shines clearly in them and it looks far too alike to the ones in his nightmare. George’s voice is a whisper.

“Help me…”

Dream can’t.

“Dream, please.”

He can’t move. Can’t feel anything.

“I don’t wanna die…”

That finally shakes Dream from his trance. He slowly lowers himself into a crouching position, reaching his free arm out to George. The boy across from him does the same and their fingertips brush.

George is shaking like a leaf.

Dream is steady, held only by the pillars of shock and fear. Lava is bubbling in his stomach. Hot and sickening.

It’s pointless to deny his attachment at this point. Everyone can see it. And Tommy’s smirk is laced with wrath.

Dream is afraid. Months ago, he would’ve wiped that look clean off Tommy’s face, but now... It shakes him to his core.

He’d put Tommy through hell. And nothing in him doubts Tommy is ready to return that pain, with a thousand times more fury.

Dream wants to comfort George, protect him. He wants to tell him nothing is going to happen. But he can’t lie to George. He already feels horrible about denying his attachments while George was standing in the room.

“I can’t protect you, George…” He mutters, hating the way his voice sounds so watery. George lets out a sharp breath.

“B-But I thought…” George trails off, fear twining thick and heavy around his words.

Dream quietly shakes his head.

“DreamXD took away my ability to reverse death after I was thrown in here…” Dream murmured. “I had a vision the night it happened, George… He told me I was no longer worthy to be his vessel. He took… EVERYTHING, George.”

“But you’re his priest..!” George exclaims. The fear is no longer held back. George’s voice is shaking and his body even more so.

Dream can only lower his eyes to the floor.

“Not anymore…”

“Dream, please you have to-”

George doesn’t get to finish. His eyes go wide and the breath is knocked out of him. Slowly, his and Dream’s eyes land on George’s chest. A blade is protruding from the front of George’s shirt. The purple metal is slick and sheen with a coat of red.

Dream feels sick.

George’s shirt is slowly turning purple. Blood streaks down his chest. Neither of them can say anything. There wasn’t even room for final words.

No time for Dream to bring George closer.

No time to kiss him goodbye.

Slowly, Dream’s eyes rise to the one standing behind George.

Tommy is on one knee behind George, hands clasped tightly around the sword’s handle. He’d plunged it between George’s shoulder blades.

George finally screams, but the sound is wet and he is swamped by a fit of coughing. Blood flies from his mouth as Tommy stands up and forcefully yanks the sword out of him.

Another scream.

But this time, it’s from Dream, who lunges to catch George before he hits the floor.

The shackle around Dream’s other arm is cruel, though, and his shoulder cries out in pain as he lurches back with a jolt. George crashes to the floor, wheezing and hardly moving. Tommy only stares down at Dream.

Something wet streaks down Dream’s face, and it’s a moment before he realizes it’s a tear.

God, it’s been so long since he’s cried.

Tommy says nothing, but seems to notice the look in Dream’s face.

Contempt, rage, hatred, sadness, despair, hopelessness.

Something in Tommy’s eyes shifts and he drops the sword. It clatters to the ground with a metallic _clang!_

The boy leans down and grabs George’s arm, heaving him up with great difficulty. Dream watches, in broken amazement as Tommy pulls George closer to Dream, before setting the bleeding man down, gently. George’s head rests on Dream’s folded, collapsed legs.

Dream looks up at Tommy, a million questions in his eyes.

“You’re the reason my morals are fucked, Dream. Why I had zero problem murdering George right in front of you. Did you REALLY think I took nothing from my time in exile?” Tommy murmurs. “But unlike you did for me, I’ll let you have a chance to say goodbye.”

Tommy reaches behind himself and unhooks a glass bottle from his belt.

It’s a potion.

Dream feels something catch in his throat as Tommy uncorks it and drizzles a small bit onto George’s wound.

Dream’s heart shatters further, as he knows it won’t be enough to save George. Only enough to keep him here for a few more fleeting moments.

“Drink the rest,” Tommy says, setting the bottle beside George. “You’re still bleeding from me punching you. And I heard your shoulder pop a minute ago.”

With that, Tommy stands up and walks away. The sword is retrieved from the obsidian floor.

Soon, all have left Dream’s cage. Returned to the other side via the floating platform. Sam, however, is coming back to Dream’s side.

A key glimmers in his hand. Dream watches him, eyes dead and emotionless. Wordlessly, Sam approaches Dream and grabs his wrist, slotting the key into its designated hole in the metal. The chain falls from Dream arm with a loud thud.

“Tommy requested me to…” He muttered. “Said you’d feel a little better if you could hold George with both arms free.”

“Thank you…” Dream replies softly, pulling George closer. The head of brunette hair is settled against the left side of Dream’s chest, the rest of his body lying horizontal across Dream’s legs.

Sam is gone soon enough and the lava wall has fallen down again.

Dream pours the remaining potion onto George’s wound, but he knows even using it all wouldn’t be enough. He’d need another, at least.

“George…” He whispers, voice breaking. Finally, in the privacy of his cell once again, he lets himself break. The tears come fast and heavy. “George, please, can you still hear me?”

There’s a small moan, and George’s hand comes up to clasp at Dream’s shirt. His eyes flutter open and they look up at Dream, filled with pain and fear.

Dream almost throws up again.

The scene is almost identical to those of his nightmares.

“I’m so sorry, George… If I’d just destroyed the discs when I had the chance-”

“Dre-eam…”

It’s crackly and broken, but George doesn’t let that stop him.

“D-Don’t blame... urself…”

It’s hard for him to form words. He continues before Dream can tell him to save his energy.

“...M-My fault… I was-sn’t carefu-ul,” George rasps. Blood trickles from his mouth, staining Dream’s pants red. Dream presses a hand against George’s chest, trying to stop the bleeding. Praying that somehow, someway, George would survive this.

“Dream?”

Tearful green eyes meet…. peaceful, brown.

“Kiss me… Please…”

Dream feels more tears stinging his eyes as he pulls George close, fitting their lips together. Dream wraps his arms around George, clinging to him tighter than he ever has. George’s hand wraps around Dream’s bicep. Dream hopes George can feel how sorry Dream is. How much he wishes he could save George.

How much Dream loves him.

The kiss is cut short by George coughing again. Blood splatters against Dream’s face, but he hardly cares, as George starts to go limp. With what strength George has left, he presses his lips to Dream’s again. He holds himself as close to Dream as he can, and though Dream tries to ignore it, Dream can feel the life slipping out of George.

Another moment comes to its end, although Dream begs it to stay. The fire in George’s kiss diminishes and he falls, completely still, into Dream’s arms. Lava bubbles in Dream’s stomach, sickens him to his very soul with foul, burning bile. He shakes George.

“...George?”

There’s no response.

“George.”

Still nothing.

“GEORGE!!!”

He shakes him once more, violently. But George remains a ragdoll, his eyes closed, and blood trailing slowly from the corners of his mouth.

In the privacy of the cell, no one can see Dream slowly begin to break.

The lava and obsidian muffle his screaming.

The crying obsidian drips purple, almost as if to make a mockery of his despair.

George’s heartbeat lays dormant. His hands have slipped from Dream’s shirt and now lie still, clasped in Dream’s larger ones. He begs George to come back.

Begs the lava to come drown him, as it should.

But nothing happens.

Dream clings to George’s body as the hell that is his most frequent nightmare plays again in his mind, the scenario matching his real one almost too perfectly.

It makes him sicker and he throws himself away from George, finally throwing up what little he had eaten that day.

Acid burns his throat as it all comes up.

The heaving leaves him weak afterward and he finally gives up, lying beside the cold corpse of his lover.

His hand curls around George’s once again and Dream lets his exhaustion pull him away into the dark oblivion of what is sure to be a restless and horror-filled sleep. But as he does, one thing snakes across his mind, leaving a small trail of comfort in its wake.

Unlike his dream, Dream never once saw the betrayal he so feared in George’s eyes. And it is his only console as he slips away.

**Author's Note:**

> My Tumblr is whatareusernames and I'm a highly chaotic multi-fandomist but like, 90% of it is MCYT so lol


End file.
